Brotherly Oven
by monkeybait
Summary: Mokuba wants to cook stuff with Seto but Seto doesn't feel like it.


**The Kaiba brothers amuse me to no end.**

"Hi, Seto!" Mokuba said, coming into his older brother's office and dropping his school bag on the lush, lavender carpet. Kaiba did not even bother to glance up from his computer screen, nor did he say anything to the plucky ten-year-old who had just entered.

Mokuba came back from the kitchen, munching on a raisin cookie. "Hiiii, Setooooo." He giggled as Seto eyed him without moving his head and pulled back the corner of his lip as if restricting the wolfish urge to bite him. "Seto, hiiii. Seto, holaaaaaa. Do you know what 'hola' means, Seto? Hey? Hey, Seto, hey? Seto, hey, Seto? Seto? Are you busy? Huh? Are you?"

Kaiba continued to ignore the monkey with thinning patience. He opened his desk drawer and took out a pair of rubbery ear plugs, popping them in at once. "_Crumpets. These don't do a thing_," he thought to himself.

Mokuba then stood directly behind his brother and shouted, "SETO, I FOUND A STACK OF TWENTY DOLLAR BILLS AND NAILED IT TO THE WALL, IS THAT OKAY?!"

"My babies!" Kaiba cried, jumping up at once.

"Now that I have your attention," Mokuba snickered, coming out in front of him, "our school is having a bake sale. Seto, we have to make something or my teacher will be upset with me! We have to raise money for the elementary school! We have to! The school needs money!"

"That's quite fascinating, Mokuba," Seto began sarcastically. "But big brother has quite a bit of work to do. Shoo-shoo."

"You always have 'quite a bit of work to do'," Mokuba sighed, imitating Kaiba's voice at the quoted portion.

Kaiba glanced up. "Don't give me your sass."

"Sorry," Mokuba growled in apology.

"Hey. I don't need your teen angst either."

Mokuba raised an eyebrow. "But brother, I'm only ten."

"Are you calling me a liar?"

"Uh… I guess so," Mokuba decided nervously. "But that's aside the point, bro! The school needs more money because some company wants to tear it down and build some sort of dueling place type thing!"

Seto's eyes widened. "That was _your_ school?"

"Beg your pardon?"

"Never mind," Kaiba said quickly. "The point is, Mokuba, I'm not going to object to a dueling 'place type thing', as you so call it, replacing your elementary school. Who really needs school anyway? All you need is dueling to make your life complete."

"I guess," Mokuba shrugged. That was what their welcome mat said, after all. "But this is elementary school, Seto! Don't I have to go?"

"I am Seto Kaiba," Kaiba stated proudly. "I could get you into college right now."

"Oh, can't we just bake something together?!" Mokuba begged. "You never play with me anymore! What if I become an emo, like that guy on TV?"

"For the last time, Mokuba, Sasuke isn't real."

"But Square Enix-"

"Riku, Neku and Cloud aren't real either. Now leave me to my work." With that, Kaiba turned back to his keyboard and began to type away. Mokuba huffed, blowing his bangs above his forehead, and went into his bedroom.

"It isn't fair, Mrs. Teds," Mokuba explained to his teddy bear. He was pretty sure he was the only kid in his grade still in possession of a teddy bear, let alone one that was a married female. "I think Seto likes his computer more than me. He always talks to it. Of course, I always talk to you. But I think I like him better than you. No offense."

Mrs. Teds' smile didn't falter. Mokuba smiled back.

"I knew I could trust you! Let's bake something, just the two of us!"

* * *

"Mokuba!" Kaiba yelled hoarsely from his office for the seventh time. "I want a glass of water!"

There was no response _again_. This left Kaiba rather disgruntled.

"I suppose I'll have to go to the kitchen and see for myself," the duelist grumbled, and pushed himself out of his swivel chair. He didn't like people ignoring him. That was one of his many pet peeves, along with nailing his easily-earned cash to the wall.

As Kaiba entered the kitchen, a flurry of flour clouded him. He coughed harshly, took out an inhaler and breathed into it several times.

"Seto! You came!" Mokuba exclaimed upon seeing his brother.

"Yes. Anyway," Seto choked. "My throat is rather dry. I've been requesting a drink for the past half hour. Pray tell, why did you not retrieve it for me?"

"Because me and Mrs. Teds were cooking!" Mokuba cheered happily.

Kaiba glared at the stuffed bear. "I thought I burned your doll years ago."

"No. You burned her late husband. She still hasn't forgiven you, by the way," he began grouchily. "And she isn't a doll, she's a bear, and she's friendlier than you are!"

"True as that may be," Kaiba snapped, acknowledging the truth, "here I stand, still without some form of liquid to alleviate my dehydration."

"I'm busy." Mokuba turned back to whatever he was making. "Clean cups are in the cabinet on your right."

Kaiba gasped. Mokuba had never opposed him before. Never. Not once. This was Mokuba he was talking about, after all. Mokuba the gullible. Mokuba the willing. Mokuba the obnoxious, but nonetheless Mokuba the helpful. Somehow, someway, the prince and the monkey had had the same parents, a blood connection that Kaiba wasn't sure if he believed or not, let alone prided in.

"Okay, fine," Seto found himself saying. "I won't tear down your silly little school! Are you happy now?!"

"So very happy!" Mokuba clapped and gave Seto a floury hug.

"Gah! My suit!" Kaiba shrieked, even though his suit was white, and shoved Mokuba off him. "Alright, that's enough of… that. Just promise you'll be obedient and submissive again, and I'll bake something with you."

"Okee-dokee, hokey-pokey!"

"Right," Kaiba said, and grabbed the cookbook. "Two cups of butter. Two cups of white sugar. ¼ tablespoon of salt. Two cups of semisweet chocolate chips. One cup of finely chopped almonds." He looked at the recipe confusion. "What exactly are you making? Sandwiches?"

"Of course not!" Mokuba laughed. "English toffee!"

Kaiba shook his head. "That's stupid. Let's just make sandwiches."

So they did. They tasted terrible. People died because of their sandwiches. A war started because of their sandwiches. But that's another story for another day. At least they were brothers again, right?

**Is it just me, or are my stories getting randomer and randomer?**


End file.
